


No Tomorrow

by TobiasOfArkham



Series: Invasion AU [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Batman: The Killing Joke (Comics)
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alternate Origin Story, Alternate Universe, Angst, Banter, Barebacking, Batjokes, Bisexuality, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Dominant Bottom, Dominant Masochism, Flirting, Heart-to-Heart, Humor, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Imprisonment, Last Letter Game, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Moral Ambiguity, Nihilism, Past Abuse, Rimming, Rough Sex, S&M, Sexual Tension, Topping from the Bottom, Tragic Romance, Twisted Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-05 18:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14624862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobiasOfArkham/pseuds/TobiasOfArkham
Summary: "See, you know this already but you don't like to think about it too much. It's what feeds you just like it feeds me; Gotham is beautiful - and she is rotten, corrupt to the core. Always was and always will be. You cut off one head... There's no escaping it - that city is asking for it."





	1. The Cell

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, this was originally meant to be just gay porn. That was the sole purpose behind coming up with this whole setting in the first place. I wasn’t intending to delve too deeply into what was initially just a device to lead things to where I wanted them to go but which is now the meat of the story. I needed to write this thing out just so it wouldn’t be bouncing aimlessly around my head, and so as to possibly delight other crazy fanfolks with the smut if I ever finish it and find it fit for human consumption.
> 
> What it ended up being is very different than I expected and a lot longer. The smut is now just one aspect of it and covers a fraction of what happens in this story and what it’s about. Granted, not much does happen; the majority of it is just two guys sitting in a holding cell, talking. Things don’t always go the way you might think...
> 
> Morgae is pronounced mor-guy. But sure, they can be more gay than their boss, though I'm not sure how that would work exactly, seeing as sex and gender are foreign concepts to their species. Bruce is in his late 30s and Joker in his early 40s, in case someone considers that relevant.
> 
> Chapters 1-2, and some of 3, are sfw.
> 
> I think that’s everything you need to know, so go ahead and look at this thing I did. Enjoy :)

"I’ve been to many worlds before, but these are some weird creatures, Frab"

The massive, bluish-gray alien shakes their head at another one as they grab a skinny, green-haired clown roughly by the neck and start cutting at his clothes with a knife.

"What do you think you're doing?" Batman exclaims, while receiving the same treatment from Frab.

"Maybe they've taken a liking to us" Joker suggests with a smile, perfectly calm. "They aren't making a very good first impression though” he adds dryly, “This is my best suit.”

Batman frowns at him. "Glad to see one of us has his priorities right."

“This material is tough” Frab grunts and throws away the knife humbled by the kevlar of the batsuit. “Hand me the zork, Morgae.”

Morgae does as they’re told. The strange instrument cuts effortlessly through the batsuit.

“This isn’t happening...”

Batman only manages a whisper, the remains of his usual cool evaporating away. Joker chuckles at this.

Morgae is curiously eyeing the captives.

"They keep making strange noises... I’ll turn on the translator." They press something implanted into their square skull and suddenly nobody in the room is making incomprehensible clicking sounds anymore. Batman turns around to shoot a furious look at his captor.

"Keep still, human!” Frab barks at him, “You will wear what we say. We rule this planet now!"

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?” Batman growls “The Justice League has beaten worse than you.”

Frab and Morgae are now making some very odd gurgling sounds. The humans assume this is their version of roaring laughter.

“You saw what happened to them, puny creature. They are all DEAD!” - at the last word Frab smacks Batman hard across the back of his head. The force of the blow sends him down onto his knees, but he pulls himself right back to his feet. He grits his teeth. “No... you’re wrong...”

Joker looks at him. “Hate to burst your bubble, Batsy, but you did see your costumed friends take a plunge into that black hole.”

“Shut up, Joker.”

Frab grabs hold of one of his bat ears. “This isn’t part of your skin” they observe.

“It is, as far as I’m concerned!” says Batman with a mixture of anger and panic in his voice now. But it’s too late - the cowl snaps open and is wrenched off his head. He hangs his head, his limp hair falling onto his face. He can feel Joker’s eyes on him. He dares not look up. They are now both stark naked and helpless.

“Shall I search their Nirs?” Asks Morgae, bending over to look for something at Joker’s waist. Joker grins and winks at them while Batman, now merely a man, remains still, staring down at the floor. It's not like he hasn't been in some tight spots before, but being uncowled and undressed by aliens in front of this man of all people, while wondering if his family and friends are still alive, wasn't exactly on his bucket list.

“No.” says Frab  “Humans do not have Nirs. They do not carry things inside like we do, except in very specific circumstances... I read up on them.” they add, and there’s a hint of pride in Frab’s voice. They produce a small device from one of their Nirs. It shoots a wide, red beam that scans the humans from head to toe. They then point the device towards a dispenser in the wall. It spits out simple shirts and pants made of a foreign material, identical in bland, gray colour and sporting strange red emblems on the back. They are flung at the humans.

“Put these on.” Frab commands them. They quietly obey. Meanwhile, Morgae is inspecting Batman’s utility belt on a table next to a switchblade and a yo-yo.

There’s a sudden bleeping noise coming from the device. Frab glances at it. They pause and squint at the two men.

“It seems we were hasty to waste energy on taking them here and replicating these coverings for them. Oragi decides these two will not make good slaves after all.” Frab declares. “They are too strong. Too smart. Too stubborn. They were a pain to catch. Execute them first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“These cells are too good for them but they won’t be wasting the space for long. Take them to the smallest one.”

 

***

 

The invisible force field goes up with a “zap” behind them. The two humans find themselves standing at the door inside a small holding cell, seemingly meant to hold a single prisoner much bigger than them. They are facing away from the door and towards something resembling a bed in the corner. A heavy door slams shut in the adjacent corridor and the voices of Frab and Morgae grow more quiet and distant until they are left in complete silence, broken only by the barely audible, steady and gentle hum of the force field. There is nobody else behind the door but them. There are three more cells like theirs along the short, dimly lit corridor but they are all empty. The cells, including theirs, are dark. There’s blood on the floor of the cell opposite them and the force field generator on the one next to it appears to be broken. Time ticks away and they do not move - until Joker finally turns to look at Bruce.

“So,” he says slowly “it's just you and me now.”

Bruce manages to look back at him. The smile on Joker’s face is unusually soft but that doesn't take away from the intensity of his eyes. Bruce stares back at them for what feels like a long time, his mind spinning and fuzzy with grief he isn't yet ready to accept. He swallows and looks away from him to take a deep breath. Something occurs to him.

“You don’t seem surprised.” he says.

“At what?”

“Wayne.”

Joker raises his eyebrows, looking amused. “Oh, please,” he says breezily, taking a step towards Bruce and pointing a finger at his face. It hovers in front of his mouth, close enough to nearly touch the tip of his nose. Crow’s feet appear in the corners of Joker’s smiling eyes as he speaks with a characteristically theatrical flare, ”Those pretty lips, turned into that pout of yours; That strong chin and handsome jawline; That ghost of a dimple on your left cheek when - God forbid - you smile...” He brushes a finger along Bruce’s jaw, “How could I mistake that face, hm?”

Bruce blinks rapidly and feels his cheeks getting warm. He turns his head away from the touch. Joker flashes a grin and playfully, but not exactly gently, nudges Bruce’s shoulder with his own. He then walks to the bed and sits down with his back leaning against the wall. He looks strangely serene, as if just patiently awaiting the end of the world.

Bruce doesn’t know what to say to that so he instead begins to pace around the cell, inspecting the force field, the floor panels, something he assumes is a toilet, a vent in the ceiling -

“Batsy...”  Joker sighs “We’re not going to escape.”

“We have to.”

“I’m serious” - his wide grin is back now - “Take it from me. I’ve spent a considerable portion of my adult life in captivity. I know an unbreakable cell when I see one. That thing there - forget it. It looks like titanium. And that...? I don’t even know... The rest of our lives, were we to get to enjoy them, would not be long enough for this one. Even if we did get out we'd be against a ship full of aliens twice our size, unarmed -"

“I get the picture.” Bruce snaps, feeling ridiculous. He leans against the wall for a moment, then resumes his pacing, now slower but aimless.

Joker observes him with a smirk “You’re not used to being imprisoned, are you?”

Bruce glares back at him. “I don't make a habit of it, but I'm no stranger to it as you very well know.”

“Yes... And you always break out with such ease. Even I can't keep hold of you for long.” - there's a note of fondness to his voice now - “But you haven't been in one of these, have you?” - he pats the wall beside him gently, like an old friend - "You haven't been properly stuck, just waiting for someone to come and beat the crap out of you at their leisure... On a completely different note, these clothes are surprisingly comfy, don’t you think? Incidentally, so is the bed. Pity we don’t have time to steal their secrets. Imagine the things we could learn from this civilisation if only we had their heads on a spike.”

Bruce stops and turns to face him. “ How can you be so calm about this?”

Amused, Joker tilts his head to the side. “Would you rather I flailed and screamed? Cried on your shoulder perhaps?”

“...You have a point.” Bruce admits.

“That’s right. Now stop brooding and come sit down.” says Joker, patting the mattress next to him.

Bruce can’t see what else there is to do so he does walk to the bed and take a seat - not where Joker was gesturing, but a foot to the right of it, to put more space between them.

“Good boy, Brucie!” Joker exclaims happily.

“Don’t call me that.”

Joker scoffs “Oh, fine, then... As you wish, darling. Wanna play a game?

 

***

 

“Alarm” says Bruce.

“Madness” Joker replies.

“Sequencer”

“Raw”

“Whip”

\- Joker frowns slightly upon hearing this word. It takes him a little longer to think.

“Parole - wait, that’s not a part of _my_ life, now, is it?” Joker chuckles “Oh, well, let’s say it’s part of yours”

Bruce smirks. “Eligible”

“Erratic”

“Crash”

“Hmm... Ha! ... Hacienda!”

“Analysis”

\-  a cruel expression - “Sob”

“Batarang”

“Gagged”

“Drug”

“Gorgeous” Joker purrs, and bites his lip.

“Shareholder”

“Run”

“Nitrous”

“Sordid”

“Disguise” Says Bruce, and sees Joker holding his index fingers up on either side of his head to represent bat ears.

“Entertainment” he says with a wide grin.

“Trigger”

\- a  guttural growl - “Rage”

“Equip”

\- Joker smiles - “Protracted”

\- Bruce frowns - “Deceitful”

“Lacerations”

“Stab”

“Bazooka” - a giggle -

“Arkham” Bruce says darkly.

“Machete!” - excited clapping -

“Eloquent”

“Trial”

“Love”

“I want to hear the rationale behind that one.” says Joker.

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be doing any of this without it. I’m not surprised that _you_ should have trouble wrapping your head around it”

“You underestimate me, dearest. Electrocuted.”

“Death”

“Handcuffs”

“Synthetic”

“Chloroform”

“Morbid”

“You too, huh?” Asks Joker.

“No. Just the people I’m forced to work with...”

Joker laughs at this. Then, softly - “Desire”

“Explosives” says Bruce, trying to ignore him.

\- a hiss - “Sexy”

Bruce pauses to think. Then he looks at Joker.

“You”

Joker’s eyes widen and he presses a hand onto his chest. “Moi?”

He comically flutters his eyelashes.

Bruce snorts “Y - O - U; an unfortunate but consistent part of my life.”

He looks away again. “Don’t flatter yourself.” he adds, with feigned nonchalance.

Joker barks with laughter. “Ah, aren’t you a delight. Say what you will but I know we have a Unique Understanding.”

“Endlessly Goading”

“Your Grumpiness”

“Reeking Straightjacket”

“Guilt Trip”

“Treacherous Predator”

“Sickening  Righteousness”

“Ghastly Sadism”

“You Muffin!”

“ _Muffin_...?” - Bruce sighs - “Oh, nevermind.”

Joker giggles. “So,” he kicks Bruce’s leg, just hard enough to cross the threshold of pain ” how do you feel about dying?” he asks hoarsely.

“What?” Bruce hears him just fine. He is startled by the kick and doesn’t know exactly what he is feeling. This was undoubtedly Joker’s intention - to throw him off balance.

“Did you go deaf?” Joker’s voice is harsh and his eyes narrow “We are going to die. How do you feel about that?”

When Bruce doesn't answer, Joker shifts to a lighter tone “Personally, I think I’ve had a good run. There are things I wish I’d had time to finish, but... c’est la morte!” He chuckles and grins. “And I do like that I get to go with my favourite person in the world.”

“We are not going to die” says Bruce tersely.

Joker shakes his head “Denial truly is your middle name.”

“I know the odds but they’ve done the impossible before.”

“Your gut is way off, Batsy... Or, whatever it is - little bats only you can see, whispering secrets to you? How about you face reality. If I can do it, so can you. Or should you have been in Arkham with me? Instead of hauling people in while you play the hero?”

There’s a confrontational edge to Joker’s delivery. Bruce doesn’t feel at all like doing this right now. He takes a different approach.

“Do you want to die?”

“Not particularly.”

“Do you think you deserve to die?”

At this Joker lets out one of his more disturbing, unhinged laughs.

“Really, Bats? The majority vote on that would no doubt be ‘yes’ but in the grand scheme on things it makes no moral difference whether I live or die. So, what is my opinion, drawing on that? Hmm... I want chocolate cake. That’s it. Do you think they’ll grant last requests? And how many units of suffering do you think death is worth?”

There's a pause.

“So... you don't know.”

“Nor care.”

“It’s not about vengeance though,” Bruce points out “It’s about justice.”

Joker gives Bruce a piercing look “Really? And do you think it’s just that I die?”

“No” Bruce says at once, with an equally intense look back at Joker.

“Is it just that I suffer, then?” Joker calmly inquires.

“It’s just that you don’t make others suffer” Bruce says with steel in his voice.

Joker grimaces and looks away from him.

“You're boring me.”

Bruce takes a deep breath, stretches, and then lets it out. As much as he hates to admit it, Joker is right - the chances of them getting out of this alive are negligible. He stares at the air vent in the ceiling, thinking. A few seconds pass...

Well,” he says lightly “If I'm not entertaining enough for you, and if you are so sure that we’re going to die, then how about you're honest with me for once?”

Joker shoots him a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean?”

Bruce doesn’t look at Joker when he speaks.

“You know full well what I mean” he says coolly “You've seen my cards. Now show me yours. Or are you too afraid?” There’s a subtle, mocking but simultaneously painfully charming smile on his lips now. For a moment neither of them says anything. Bruce is aware of being watched but keeps his eyes looking straight ahead, waiting.

“I really like your eyes, you know” says Joker softly, “It’s a pity I can’t see them properly when you wear the cowl...”

“Don’t change the subject” says Bruce roughly.

“But I can’t remember.”

“I don’t believe you” says Bruce.

“I can't” Joker insists “they zapped it all to oblivion!”

“That's not how it works.”

Joker scowls.

“And I suppose you'd be the expert on ECT?”

“Hardly, but even I know that much.”

Joker sighs “Ok, you got me. I only forget stuff for a while after. Normally it's just short term memory but when they... overdo it, things do get... confused. But then it comes back” he says tightly, looking suddenly angry, “It always comes back.”

“You don't want it to?”

“Why would I want to remember that I was... abducted by these aliens as a young man... ”

Bruce rolls his eyes. Joker carries on.

“Oh, the agony of the procedures!” he wails theatrically “Although I did rather enjoy the probe” he adds with a goofy smile.

“Quit stalling.” says Bruce and turns to look at him. “We're going to do this.”

Joker returns the gaze for only a second. Then he looks down at his hands, now compulsively picking at a dried and cracked cuticle on his thumb. He looks tired now. His makeup has worn off from all the commotion that preceded their capture. His lips are not their usual ruby red but a dull shade, with lighter patches here and there. His skin overall is now more like one would expect it to be after being dipped into hazardous waste; uneven in texture and colour, an off-white with areas that hint it was once flesh-coloured. Bright green eyes stare down from the middle of all this and he looks otherworldly, Bruce thinks, yet also vulnerable and, somehow, strangely beautiful.

  
“OK.” Joker finally says. “Let's.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made an effort to keep the guys in character as much as possible, but if they seem OOC, hopefully that's just due to the circumstances: Joker doesn't care about anyone on the surface and his material gains are just a means to immaterial ends. Up here he only has his life and Batsy's to lose. He doesn't see a way out and has the ability to distance himself emotionally, so he is already thinking several steps ahead. Bruce on the other hand has been torn away from his city and his routine, stripped of his power, dignity and any backup, so he feels he has no semblance of control over his life. And naturally he is worried sick about his loved ones. The only emotion he can remotely process at this time is anger. That's why, perhaps unlike in other circumstances, Bruce is the one nervously pacing and Joker the one calmly accepting the situation.


	2. Story Time

“How far back do you want to go?” Joker inquires.  
“All the way” Bruce says, “But only if you spare me the abusive, alcoholic father... “  
Joker’s expression tightens.  
“It wasn't my father” he spits, and Bruce stares, surprised by the reaction. He cannot rationally explain how, but somehow he knows that this, finally, is the truth. He says nothing and allows Joker to carry on.

“I never knew my father” he says, and then continues slowly, deliberately, “And my mother didn't drink. She didn’t give me the belt often, either - not that this makes up for the rest. She was very... specific about how things were done, you see - especially when it came to worship. And when she found out that I had... _sinned_... with the neighbour’s boy... she sent me to this -...”  
He looks utterly disgusted by the memory and can't bring himself to finish the sentence, but Bruce gets the idea. Joker takes a short pause.

“Needless to say, it didn't work.”  
He sounds amused now, and Bruce receives a twinkling sideways glance accompanied by a toothy grin.

“I guess she'd failed too many times, so it wasn't an option that I do. In order to live with the shame of having a son like me, she pushed me.  
Lucky for me, I had this on my side” - he knocks on his skull - “I was one smart bastard - literally. Did very well at school, even if I was the oddball, not popular... In fact, I got introduced to a whole new kind of violence there. The taste of blood, the pain in my knuckles - it was immediately clear to me that I like it. Much preferable to that other kind of pain, you know? But I was the best in my year in chemistry and they told me I was gonna do well...” He gives Bruce a wicked grin, “Would you say they were right, Batsy? Hehheh.”

“Why were you into chemistry?” Bruce is curious to know.

“I liked blowing stuff up and altering my mind” He says simply. “I did my first stealing at school, you know. Chemicals to play around with that were hard to come by. Never got caught. “ - he looks satisfied with himself - “Anyway, got myself a scholarship to a good college. That’s where I met Jeannie. We took many of the same courses. Had a lot in common. She was great.” he smiles fondly “Real smart, funny and sexy. We fell for each other right away.  
Mother was beside herself with happiness when I first brought her home. She thought I’d been cured at last! And I rather liked visiting Jeannie’s parents, too. Nothing like the oppressive atmosphere of my own home,“ he says darkly, ”with the silence and the many crucifixes... on old, yellowed, flowery wallpaper... Kinda relatable as that guy hanging there was with the pain and humiliation he must be feeling.”

Bruce’s eyes widen. He is holding back a giggle at the thought of Joker relating to Jesus.

“Anyway,” Joker continues, his tone light, in stark contrast to what it had just been, “I graduated with honours and got a job at ACE Chemicals as a lab assistant. Jeannie wasn’t as lucky. She struggled to find work. But we managed. Her parents helped us find and rent ourselves a place in the Gotham East End. Not ideal, but somewhere to stay while we figure things out, you know? So, I was doing well at ACE and no longer had to worry about mother screwing things up. Me and Jeannie got married in one of the hottest summers in memory. Right after the vows I cut her wedding dress down to the length of a miniskirt while she giggled, just so she wouldn't faint - and to enjoy the sight of my mother's reaction to that. Those were good times...”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming” says Bruce seriously. Joker nods.

“But then things started... changing. It started with Jeannie’s mother and little brother getting into a car accident that killed the mom and put the kid in a wheelchair. Jeannie was spending a lot of time looking after her broken family, grieving along with them while I was handed more responsibility at the chemical plant. I had real potential to climb up the ladder fast in that company, but the thing is... I hated it. I was bored out of my mind! At some point I just... I wasn’t happy anymore.

What I really wanted to do was comedy - something I'd always loved watching, ever since I was a kid. Mother wouldn't let me watch anything “unwholesome” like that, of course, so I'd watch everything I could find at my boyfriend’s house, before I was forbidden to ever see him again, that is... So, yeah, I loved to perform and to make people laugh. They seemed to think I was a funny guy, too, so I thought... I'll give it a try. Started working on my act during the many evenings Jeannie was away... And soon I was doing small gigs on weekends. It went rather well and opportunities were opening up, but I couldn't work two jobs forever. I'd have to choose.

Jeannie was supportive up until I told her I want to quit ACE. She didn't think it was a good idea. But the way I saw it, we only live once, so we gotta make the most of it, right? Follow our hearts!”

At this he cackles madly for quite some time - one of his more crazy, chilling laughs. He wipes at his tears while - with some trouble - attempting to steady himself and stop laughing. Eventually, he succeeds.

“Phew! Yeah... wow... So, quit I did, objections be damned! And just like that, everything went to hell. I didn't do as well as I'd hoped. I don’t know what it was, but... I guess I just wasn’t funny anymore. It got to a point where the only work I was getting was as a clown. The kids loved me almost as much as I hated them. And Jeannie was getting distant and moody. Turned out the worst had happened - she was pregnant.”

“Oh, no...” says Bruce and brings a hand to his forehead. He shudders at the thought of a child being involved in anything the Joker ever did.  
“Oh, yes. Her pills had failed. She told me that she’d known for a while now. That she’d actually come close to aborting and never telling me. As much as that hurt my ego I quietly wished she had. But you know why she didn’t? Not for my sake, but... because she _just couldn’t bring herself to do it_. She realised she wanted to keep it! And now she was pretty far into it. God, I hated her for it.”

“It can’t be an easy decision to make” Bruce defends her.

“I realise that. But she made the wrong one. Just like I had. This was not the time or the place. We were in our early twenties, living in a miserable slum, without a clue, without two dollars to rub together... And soon we’d have another mouth to feed! We’d have to come up with something. So I contacted ACE, ready to crawl back to them. But they’d replaced me. The new guy had a long contract, so I’d have to get back to them in six months to see if he’d lived up to the standard I’d set. But we didn’t have six months. We were running out of money fast.

Jeannie had been too much of a mess since the accident to be able to work anyway, and now with the baby on the way... It was showing, so her chances of finding work had plummeted below zero. Her father was nearly as broke as we were at this point, with the expenses of his wife’s funeral and his son’s rehabilitation and whatnot... and my mother... well, she didn’t want anything to do with any of this because, in her eyes, I had caused this and deserved to pay for it.  
We were living on welfare and... you know how well that shit works in Gotham... No, wait, you wouldn’t! You’re a billionaire!” Joker laughs.

“That’s right,” says Bruce humbly, “I wouldn’t. But I see the effects of it every night.”

Joker looks sour. “Good thing _you’re_ there to save everyone...”  
“So, “- he smoothly shifts back to his story as he detects Bruce getting angry -” It was all up to me now to figure something out. And this part you do know; how when one cries out in distress at Gotham she tends to... respond... take you into her welcoming arms...”

“Unfortunately.”

“My gigs had taken me to The Stacked Deck on more than one occasion so I happened to know this guy at the docks who knew some of Valestra’s men. They were looking for someone with expertise in explosives. I’m not gonna bore you with details. Suffice it to say it was a simple enough job for someone with my knowledge but not exactly small time - not your usual first, but one that would pay me more than I’d see in months working at the plant, let alone the clubs. Just a couple of jobs like this would set us up for the rest of the year, allow us to move out of the East End, into a bigger place and an environment better suited for... family life.”

“Were you looking forward to being a family man - in theory?”

“Me? Hell, no! I guess it’s one of those conversations couples should have before things get too serious, but... We never did. I assumed that she’d want it eventually and that, by that time, I might too. In the distant future...”

“Sucks to have to grow up early.” Bruce says with a knowing look. Joker returns it, his expression blank, unreadable. He doesn’t respond. They spend a few moments in silence. Then, Joker continues:

“The night of the job came along and everything went perfectly. I’ll never forget that rush of success, the thrill of pulling this off without a hitch! I’d never felt more alive in my life! Couldn’t tell Jeannie what was up. As far as she knew I’d won the money in the lottery. I lied that I had more of it than I actually did at that point, because I was going to - the next job had already been planned and settled.

On the evening before that second job - to take place in my old workplace, the processing plant - I was feeling on top of the universe. Came home with a bouquet of blood-red roses for Jeannie. Eleven of them - you know, so she’d be the twelfth...”

Bruce chuckles “Never took you for a romantic”

“I told you, you underestimate me” he says coldly, “In any case, she never got those roses.”

Bruce’s smile disappears.

“I found her corpse lying there on the kitchen floor. A freak accident... Got zapped straight from the mains because of a defective baby bottle heater...”

“And the child?” asks Bruce quietly.

“Dead. I’d _told her_ not to bother with cheap gadgets... That we’ll worry about such things once that _thing_ comes out...”

These words are spoken with such contempt that Bruce can’t help but to ask:  
“You can’t possibly blame your unborn child for this? It was innocent.”

“None of us are innocent!” Joker snaps “But no...” he sighs, “I did not blame the kid. I blamed her, and myself. And most of all - ... we’ll get to that later.

Now, it was time for my second robbery! Not that I had any reason for any of it anymore, but then I had nothing to lose, either. So I went into it like it was the last thing I’ll ever do. In a way it was; It was the last thing that version of me ever did.  
See, this one was not a success. I was distracted enough by the events of the night before that I tripped an alarm that hadn’t been there while I was still working there. It _should have been easy_ \- just get in, get the chemicals, get out - but I hadn’t counted on... that.”

“On being human?“

\- A nasty smirk - “I just call it weakness. Soon, we were surrounded by cops. One of our guys took a shot at them, after which mayhem broke out; bullets flying everywhere, hitting vats of toxic waste so it sprayed out, catching one of the cops in the face. She screamed and took two blind shots in our direction. One sank into the skull of one Fat Mac in front of me, sending bits of brain in my face; The other had to be dug out of my leg later on... Now that’s what I call a lucky shot!” he cackles and shakes his head “I was incapacitated at that point and quickly slammed against one of the vats and cuffed.

I was sentenced for armed robbery. Inexplicably, one of the cops present was kind enough to point out during the trial that I hadn’t taken a shot at them when the others did. He was right - when the shooting had started I’d just cowered there thinking I’m going to die, suddenly at a loss as to which way I should run to escape or whether I even wanted to run at all... This detail along with me being a first timer worked in my favour, to shorten the sentence. But I still spent long enough in Blackgate to be a new man when I left. You know there’s nothing like prison to make a better crook out of you. Between getting my ass kicked and working out, I heard a lot of things, learned a lot of tricks... and met a lot of people.

Late Fat Mac’s friend Tony, who’d survived the disaster with me, did not hold my mistakes against me. He was still rather... taken with me and firmly believed in my potential. And that’s why he personally introduced me to Sal.”

“Valestra?”

“The one and only. ”

“He was in Blackgate with you?”

“Yup. And old Salvatore seemed to like me too - not like Tony did, hehe - but he could see that I had a lot to offer. I had a unique way of thinking, he said. After that nobody would dare lay a finger on me again. Nobody fucked with Sal, or anyone under him.

As soon as I’d served my sentence, way before everyone else, I was suddenly a man with a mission - to play a crucial part in an escape plan. And this time I didn’t screw up - I got everyone out.”

Bruce frowns “I remember hearing about that. The biggest prison break in the history of Blackgate. I was in Beijing at the time, but Alfred kept me up to date... five guards dead, all the high profile mobsters out... never found out how they pulled it off. So that was you?”

Joker gives him a coy smile.  
“Oh, I can’t take all the credit... But I did do a great job, if I do say so myself. ”

Bruce shakes his head and exhales sharply.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Yes, it was quite unbelievable, the way I covered my tracks. Destroyed all the files. Back when you could just burn them! As well as any people who got in the way... who knew the wrong things. It took considerable time and resources but eventually my past self just... ceased to be! And this new me was quite different.”

“Wait... You just... erased people from your life?”

“I erased that life.”

“So what of Jeannie’s family?”

The look Joker is now giving Bruce is odd. For a moment it looks as if he’s... offended.  
“... You wanna know what I did with the money I got for my first hit?”

Bruce stares - “Bought a funfair?” he suggests dryly.

Joker giggles “I’ve owned several, but no. I sent it to Jeannie’s father.”

“What?”

“You heard me. That’s where that money needed to go! With the next one I bought... luxury items.”

“Why would you care?” Asks Bruce, confused and angry again.

Joker shrugs “I don’t understand these wretched emotions any better than you do.”

“I’d like to think I’m doing at least a little bit better than you” Bruce argues.

“Perhaps you are...” Joker mutters thoughtfully.

“And what of your mother?”

Now Joker’s eyes snap to Bruce’s. In the dark cell, the glint in his wide eyes and the stretched grin he is wearing make the hairs at the back of Bruce’s neck stand up. He is acutely reminded that he is, in fact, talking to a monster.

“Remember the crucifixes, Bruce?” he whispers and licks his lips.

“You didn’t.”

“But of course I did!” Joker exclaims and laughs airily, looking suddenly cheerful. In an instant, gears have switched from “I WILL EAT YOUR SOUL” to “Wasn't that a silly little thing that happened? What fun!”

Bruce’s finds himself holding his breath for so long that it stutters on its way out and he gasps for the next one. The thing is - he may not admit it, but deep down he finds this horrific image Joker has painted oddly satisfying.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I adore TKJ, I felt that the origin story presented in it lacks an explanation for how on earth Joker would have become not just an adept criminal but the Clown Prince of Crime. Him going from that sweet, well meaning guy of the comic to somehow managing to establish a precence in the underworld as a white-skinned, green-haired freak who's still a nobody, didn't work for me. So, it occurred to me that he had only just escaped Arkham and its archaic, barbaric "treatments" before the events of that comic and may not have been of the soundest of mind at the time (lol), his brain still scrambled. This in part explains his "multiple choice" past - he avoids thinking about his true past whenever possible, relishes forgetting it, and always lies about it. The Jack Napier of The Mask of The Phantasm intrigued me but lacked that human touch, being just a snapshot. So this is how I chose to bring it all together.


	3. No Tomorrow

“You're insane.”

“Tell me something I don't know” Joker drawls, then yawns loudly and stretches, his arms opened so wide that he slaps Bruce in the face with the back of his hand. Bruce shoves it off.

“Oh, excuse me, dear” Joker says affectionately. “Now, where was I... Ah, right - my revenge! Of course, I wasn't content with just erasing my previous identity. I also needed to deal appropriate punishments! A certain church went up in flames along with its congregation and their so called _clinic_ , as did this little factory in Detroit - I'd tracked it using the serial number on a certain faulty item, all the way down to whose shift it had been.

People kept dropping like flies and I kept climbing up the hierarchy of the underworld at an unprecedented speed. Somehow, I’d become the deadliest son of a bitch these mobsters ever had in their ranks. Aside from the ease and ingenuity with which I blew things up, poisoned people and suchlike, I'd always been a pretty good shot - used to have fun at the range with Jeannie and her dad back when... although she was a better shot, to be honest - But now I was _good,_ if not quite as good as I was with people.

As it turns out, my silver tongue was my biggest strength in this business. I could charm them, learn their strengths, their weaknesses, their secrets... Snake my way into their lives and strike before they knew what had happened. In hindsight, I may have wanted to take up acting instead of stand-up. You know what I learned during those years? I learned who my real enemy is. See, you know this already but you don't like to think about it too much. It's what _feeds_ you just like it feeds me; Gotham is beautiful - and she is _rotten_ , corrupt to the core. Always was and _always will be._ You cut off one head... There's no escaping it - that city is asking for it. If she didn't want blood running down her streets she wouldn't keep spawning creatures like my mother, like Valestra, like me...” - he gives Bruce a cruel smile - “like whoever killed your parents... Everyone's a monster just waiting to hatch in the heat of this miserable hole - even you! So I felt that someone needed to put that bitch back in her place.”

Bruce scoffs “What, at your feet, Your Majesty?”

Joker looks mildly amused at this “Oh, well... I admit to letting my success go to my head ever so slightly...” he says with a mock sheepish smile “And I admit to loving it whenever I do get to dominate that town. Always a blast - except for that one time; it’s surprisingly hard to get a nuke to go off with a meddling harlequin running around!” he adds with a giggle.

“Were you actually going to do it?” Bruce asks seriously.

“What, nuke Gotham? Naaah, I was just terrorising you all” he says dismissively, as if referring to an April fools prank, “Anyway, back to the olden days, when I actually did wish to turn her into rubble. I did get some things wrong back then, you know. It was a long time ago... Oh, those twenty-somethings!” he adds with a wave of his hand and a hearty chuckle.

Bruce raises an eyebrow “Sure...”

“I didn't know then the things I was about to learn!”

“So you actually admit to not knowing everything?” Bruce grins. Joker gives him an indignant look and carries on.

“I had done everything within my power to erase my identity. Only the handful of guys I'd been in Blackgate with knew what had been written on the now long gone files when I was incarcerated, and nobody had called me that while inside, or since then, anyway. And I changed my legal name upon my release to something I never used. But by the time I turned 30 I was Sal’s right hand man, a boss in my own right. I was gaining notoriety, and while I enjoyed the perks of that, part of me wasn't entirely comfortable with it. Nobody knew where I came from but everybody knew my face. I’d stirred up quite a bit of drama and there were rumours flying around about someone planning a hit on me. I needed to lay low. So I came up with a plan...”

“The Red Hood Gang?”

“Yeah. It was wonderfully ridiculous! Whenever I wasn’t personally donning the stupid costume, someone else would. There could be anyone under the hood and nobody knew who ran it but a tight circle of guys who knew better than to cross me. I could do anything I wanted and get anything done for me without ever having the finger pointing at me”

“I remember...”

“This was the time to tie up the last loose end from my previous life! I’d already had all the paperwork destroyed, of course, but I hadn’t personally paid the good old ACE Chemicals processing plant a visit since that fateful night. I felt that it was time to succeed in what I had failed at then - to go there myself and steal exactly every item I’d gone there to get years ago, and anything else I'd like to boot. Of course, as you know, this didn’t happen.”

“No...” says Bruce sadly.

“Got a bit more than I bargained for, wouldn’t you say?” Joker sniffs and shakes his head. Then he heaves a sigh and stares dreamily into distance.

“There he was,” he says slowly, dramatically, “the most beautiful creature I’d seen in my life. I’d heard stories and seen blurry photos, but... They don’t do you justice. I could hardly breathe for everything I was feeling; captivated and terrified and determined not to go to jail... I’d have to _run_ , but where could I run from something like you? All I could do was take a step towards the railing, and... What followed were the most horrific and painful moments of my life. I was sure I would drown, and the things it did to my skin... It would never feel the same. Parts of it never quite stopped burning.”

“Hmph, and I get told off for guilt tripping...” Bruce mutters, “I tried to stop it. I know you don’t believe me but I swear I didn’t want it to happen.”

“Of course you didn’t” Joker croons affectionately “If I ever told you otherwise it was just to get under your skin”

“Right... Of course.” says Bruce tensely.

“Some people claim I’m not really crazy. I find that hilarious. If they could hear the _noise_ in my head... But don’t feel sorry!” Joker exclaims cheerfully “You created the third version of me and I am ever so grateful! What happened that night made me see things much more clearly.”

“No.”

“Oh, yes. I understood that everything I just told you is _ridiculous!_ ” Joker laughs maniacally “My life is as ludicrously pathetic and meaningless as everyone else’s. And Gotham isn’t my enemy. She is my bride! ” - there’s a dark, dangerous look in his eyes - “Because I can play that game too... But don’t worry, darling,” he says in a slow, deep voice, with a heated look from under his brow “I have enough love to share for the both of you” He winks at Bruce with a lopsided grin. Bruce feels hot in the face. Joker coolly carries on.

“So that’s how I became me! Ta da! Whaddya think? In the next episode - Bruce spills it all!”

“Heh...” Bruce awkwardly rubs his neck. “I don’t have much to tell you that you don’t already know... You stalker.“

Joker giggles. Bruce carries on:

“But what I don’t understand, is... You’ve told me more than once that I took something from you. But it sounds to me like you’d lost everything already. And now you’re thanking me... But you always seemed genuinely angry. It always seemed personal. Is that just you expertly getting under my skin again? And is _that_ not personal?”

Joker sighs “Oh, the things I say after the shocks and the drugs... Not a fan of wearing my heart on my sleeve.”

“Is it about Arkham? If there’s something I should know about that, all you had to do is tell me”

“No, you idiot!” Joker snaps “I can get out of _there_ any time I want!”

“Then what are you not addressing? What did I take from you? ” Bruce demands.

Now Joker looks suddenly angry, desperate.

“What do you think, _detective?_ ” he says spitefully, “what could I possibly be denied that I can never escape?”

He pins Bruce down with a stare so intense that Bruce instinctively expects him to attempt to strangle him, or maybe pull a knife from somewhere... Bruce doesn’t know where to go from here, how to turn what he is thinking into speech. It seems Joker can see this; He opens his mouth to speak and for a moment it seems as if he’s not going to fair much better. A charged few seconds pass as they stare at each other.

“Only the love of my life” Joker finally says, his voice strained, his eyes still firmly on Bruce, whose mouth hangs open for a moment as he stares wordlessly back at his arch nemesis.

Then he closes it and tries to think through the tangle of emotions.

“So... You’re bitter because I’m a crime fighter?”

“You don’t have to be!” says Joker impatiently, passionately “You could be anything you want! You’re brilliant, resourceful, strong, good looking... and rich, too! You could do _anything_ you want and you... You choose to be Batman! Who are you trying to fool? Huh? I see the rage in your eyes, I can almost _hear it_ rushing through your veins. It feeds you, becomes you! Every damned night out there you’re teetering on the edge and it’s a delight to behold. It would seem that you can’t be pushed - you know how I’ve tried - but you could always _jump!_ ”

Bruce shakes his head “I can’t do that. If I did - if I fell into the abyss... I wouldn’t be me anymore.”

There’s a long silence as they look at one another. Joker breathes out heavily and balls his fists. “You know... you’re right. And I _hate_ you for that. Because I very much love you just the way you are. Most times I don’t _really_ want you gone. I just play the game. But sometimes I do feel it would be easier if you were really dead... or someone else.” He pulls his knees against his chest. To Bruce’s astonishment he looks almost ashamed of what he has said - almost.

“I have similarly held out hope that I could reform you...” says Bruce quietly.

“You know that’s impossible.”

“Maybe. I don’t know... I didn’t want to give up on you.”

“That’s stupid of you” says Joker dismissively.

“No more stupid than you expecting me to fall,” Bruce points out, “expecting me to dismiss the good in people that - I should point out - has done you quite a few favours, if your story is to be believed.”

“Every word was true!” Joker shoots a furious, piercing look at him.

“I believe you” says Bruce calmly, looking earnestly back into his eyes, “and I'm sorry about what happened to you. And that... “ - his voice cracks - ”there doesn’t seem to be a way things could have been different between us.”

“If you could spare me the pity, please.” says Joker harshly.

“That’s not -”

And suddenly, Bruce is tired. Everything about this conversation and what it means is exhausting. Part of him - a big part - wants to punch Joker in the face - that’s what would normally happen. It’s how they have always communicated their feelings. They could easily spend the remainder of their lives beating each other into a pulp, drop back into their old groove. But there is nothing normal about the situation they are in and another part of him is emerging, wanting to do something else entirely. He doesn’t know how to deal with this - he never did, not with him - so he settles on lying down on the bed, to maybe regroup his thoughts. He lies on his side with his back turned to Joker who’s still sitting at Bruce’s feet with his back against the wall, hugging his legs.

A short while later he hears a deep sigh and shuffling on the bed. He feels Joker lying down next to him, behind his back, close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating from his body but not close enough to touch Bruce. They lie in silence for a while, listening to their breathing, suddenly loud in the quiet, dark cell. Then -

“You ever wonder what it would be like?

Bruce’s breath catches. His heart is suddenly beating faster. “What?”

“You know,” says Joker softly, “if we’d met, say, twenty-odd years ago, instead of when we did?”

Bruce closes his eyes, able to breathe again, but his breath is uneven and feels heavier now. Joker must have heard this, judging by his soft chuckle.

“Often.” Bruce manages to admit.

“Now, that would have been something... am I right?”

“Yeah.” Bruce agrees, feeling warm again, finding it harder to deny just what he is feeling. His heart quickens further when he feels fingers stroking the hair on the top of his head, twining into it, playing with it, then brushing gently down to the nape of his neck where fingernails affectionately scratch at the trimmed hairline.

“You know... as much as I love your cowl, it’s nice to touch your hair.”

Bruce swallows. He is breathing quickly and audibly now. Joker moves his hand from Bruce’s neck to his shoulder, where it lingers for a while, caressing it. When Bruce doesn’t protest, he slides it down his arm and stops at his bicep which he squeezes lightly. He slips a hand under the arm and rests it on his chest while he moves closer, soon nestled against Bruce, who can feel his breath on his neck now. In response, his heart is pounding against his chest like it wants to come right through, and his groin is stirring, catching up with what’s happening. And he’s not alone in that; he can feel that now, through the layers of clothing.

Joker takes a deep breath through his nose, against Bruce’s skin, taking in his scent, then breathes out a satisfied hum, fingers stroking his chest. He then nuzzles his neck and presses his lips onto the same spot he had scratched earlier. He trails soft kisses along his neck, letting his teeth graze the skin when he comes to a sensitive spot under his ear...

Bruce finds himself grabbing Joker’s wrist on his chest hard enough to bruise. He feels like he has caught fire. He’s fixed to the spot, now breathing heavily, not even trying to hide how this is making him feel, how badly he wants to reciprocate. And Joker has now grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and moved on to kissing his throat, then his jaw, as far along it as he can reach from his position... and Bruce slowly turns his head towards him, until the next kiss lands on the corner of his mouth. His icy blue eyes find Joker’s light green ones and hold them for a moment before their lips inevitably reach each other. Bruce’s eyelids fall shut as he returns the kiss. His grip of Joker’s wrist relaxes as he does. The kiss doesn’t last long. Joker retreats, stroking his back as he does.

Bruce turns around to find him lounging on his back, his arms over his head, his eyes half-lidded, and on his lips a smile the likes of which Bruce has never seen on them. Nobody has ever looked at him quite like this. Bruce moves closer, now propped up on his elbow, his leg resting across Joker’s. He looks down into his eyes.

“What’s your name?” he asks, in barely more than a whisper.

Joker blinks at him, obviously taken by surprise “My name?” he asks stiffly, as if it's the most absurd thing he could be asked.

Bruce gives him one of his more charming smiles “I assume you were given one? Let’s pretend we’re 17 and we just met.”

He has never seen so many emotions on that face at once. One moment there is desire, the next, Joker looks like he might cry. Then, Bruce is sure he will start laughing - until his expression settles on sincere.

“Jack” he says quietly.

Bruce dares to reach and stroke the hollow of his cheek. He leans in.

”Nice to meet you, Jack” he whispers against his lips before he kisses them. Jack’s lips are parted in invitation and he wraps his arms around Bruce to eagerly pull him closer, urging him to come on top of him. Bruce does, and they lie there sharing gentle kisses, each sweeter than the last, mouths pressed closer together, deeper... until it becomes more urgent, passionate, and they are both panting, their bodies grinding against one another, moisture now soaking through the synthetic fibres where their erections rub together.

Joker is back. He digs his fingernails into Bruce’s back hard enough to leave marks and tears his mouth away from his.

“Take off the pants!” he hisses the command into his open mouth.

“Yes...” responds Bruce breathlessly, his eyes closed, and proceeds to bite at his throat, kiss his collarbone... He retreats and slips a hand under Joker's shirt to caress his stomach, to follow a dark green happy trail until he catches the waist of his pants with his thumbs. He pulls them down and kisses what he finds, then again, on the moist tip, causing Joker to groan. He wants to linger but Joker pushes his head away. So he instead does as he's told and soon finds himself on his knees, half naked and hard, looking down at Joker, who has pulled off his shirt in the meantime and is fully naked, shamelessly stroking his length, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of the now pantless Bruce before him.

“Come here, darling.” he purrs.

Bruce pulls off his shirt as well and lowers himself back onto Joker, desperately pressing against him. And it feels so good now, with nothing in the way.

“I love it when you call me that” he mutters between kisses.

“Really?” says Joker, and smiles against his mouth.

“I always did”

“Good boy” Joker whispers in his ear - and suddenly grabs a fistful of his hair tightly, painfully. He stares at Bruce with dark, greedy eyes.

“Now, are you just gonna grind me all night or are you gonna _fuck me_?” he squeezes the words viciously through his teeth.

“Oh, God...” Bruce pants.

“Do not speak his name in vain” Joker teases, then lets out a low, evil cackle and pulls at his hair even tighter as he reaches for his ear again. He sticks out his tongue and gives it a long lick.

“You want me to fuck you?” Bruce breathes into Joker’s ear in return, and grabs him by the hair as tightly as his own is being pulled.

Joker gives a feral growl and bites the lobe of his ear so hard that only for the two of them can it be considered foreplay - judging by the sting Bruce suspects he may have actually drawn blood. Bruce grunts and rolls off of him, not letting go of his hair. He smacks Joker across the face, which is met by an ecstatic smile, with his eyes shut, a dull blush on the pale cheeks... Bruce grabs him violently by the arm and hauls him onto his stomach.

“Ooh, yes, that's how it's done, baby!” Joker laughs.

“Shut up”

He lets go of his hair and grabs his neck instead, pressing him down against the bed, and gives his ass a hard slap. Joker gives a pleased sound at this.

“I do love it when you're bossy, but you will _never_ shut _me_ up.” He tilts his hips and spreads his legs, then spits into his hand and brings it to his behind to slather it with it, to slip a finger in to prepare himself. Bruce lets go of his neck and shifts himself lower. He bites down on his shoulder, then on his ass, leaving red teeth marks into the white skin. He shoves Joker's hand away so he can lean in to kiss it, lick it, bury his face in it... Again he wants to keep going, but joker impatiently growls at him despite obviously enjoying the treatment. Bruce slips his own finger in, then another. He hits a spot that makes Joker give a satisfied groan.

“Oh, that is nice...” he says and rocks his hips against the fingers.

“You like that?” Bruce smacks him again with his free hand, as hard as he can. Joker closes his eyes and bites down on his lip, his expression tight.

“Mmm, fuck yeah...”

Bruce is going out of his mind with desire now, precum dripping onto the bed from the tip of his cock. He grabs it and gives it a few strokes to spread the clear fluid along it. He spits between Joker’s buttocks and positions himself so that his cock rubs against him. He gently caresses the inside of of his buttock with his thumb, then circles the opening with the head of his cock to relax it. He hardly needs to - Joker is quite ready for him.

“Come on, give it to me!’ he barks and shoots a wicked grin over his shoulder as he grabs the sheets.

Bruce obeys and pushes slowly into him with a moan. Joker responds with one of his own. When he's inched himself about half way in, Joker draws a quick, sharp gasp of air through his teeth with a hiss. He tightens his grip on the sheets - and around Bruce. His eyes are pressed shut and his breathing fast, shallow and uneven. He looks to be in pain, or perhaps pleasure, it's hard to tell.

Bruce goes still. “Does that hurt?” he manages through the haze of pleasure.

“Yes...” Joker pants into the bed, his voice heavy and dripping with lust, “it hurts _so good_... keep going!”

He does, and Joker groans and whines. When Bruce is as deep as he can go, he relaxes on top of him and begins to rock his hips in a steady, slow rhythm while he kisses his neck, strokes his hair... He reaches to find his cheek and press a kiss upon it. Joker cranes his neck to look at him, looking positively devilish. Then, he spits in his face and laughs. Bruce grabs his hair again, taking the hint. He knows he won't last very long. It appears that Joker can sense this as he slips a hand underneath himself to pleasure himself as he is fucked faster and harder now, their sighs and moans filling the dark cell...

“My Batman...” he whispers hoarsely. They both come, hard, moaning and jerking, Bruce inside him and Joker into his own hand.

They remain lying there one on top of the other until their breathing evens out. Bruce kisses his back and pulls away. He collapses onto his back next to Joker, who turns to his side and brings his hand to his mouth to suckle the cum off it, with a lewd grin at Bruce. He glances down, then back at his face.

“Would you like me to clean you up?

“You’re disgusting” Bruce says.

Joker's grin widens, “I know. Just the way you love me. Although, it’s rather amusing to hear from the man who just had his tongue in my ass.”

Bruce gives him a stern look from under his brow, but can’t help his lips twisting into a smile. Joker crawls to him and settles there half-lying on Bruce with his head resting on his shoulder, his hand on his chest, his leg over his. Bruce wraps his arm around him.

“God dammit...” Joker sighs in disappointment,”Why is there no window?! Can you imagine a more romantic view?”

Bruce chuckles and strokes his shoulder. Then his feelings catch him by surprise when he thinks about what exactly he would see if there was one, the breathtaking beauty of it, and about everyone who has died down there and elsewhere since the aliens arrived, and how suddenly guilty he feels about the pleasure he's received in his final hours. Many would consider what he has just done objectively wrong - doomed to die or not - yet he can't get himself to care, not like he probably should. His eyes sting and water and he holds onto his enemy - his lover - tighter...

“Wonder what ‘morning’ means to these guys.” Joker muses. “I mean, are they in Earth time? Which time zone? And how early do they get up to do their everyday executing chores?”

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough” says Bruce. A tear rolls down from the corner of his eye.

“Not too soon I hope.” says Joker with a smirk. "There's still fun to be had."

 

***

 

They are jerked awake by an explosion that rocks the ship. The force field drops and the lighting is dimmed further into a red glow. Bruce immediately sits bolt upright and looks down at a sleepy Joker who's rubbing his eyes and groaning.

“Can I not have ten more minutes...?”

He sits up too and looks at Bruce. An alarm is now wailing in a corridor outside the heavy door, which opens on its own. Joker smiles warmly and grabs either side of Bruce’s face to pull him into a kiss like there’s no tomorrow - which until now they were both fairly certain there will be.

“This really isn’t the time...” Bruce mutters when he finally withdraws.

“Nonsense! There’s no time like the present. Shall we go for a lovely walk and see what the big folks are up to?”

They get up and get dressed, after which Joker offers Bruce his arm like a gentleman to a fair lady at a fancy ball. Bruce stares for a moment, then takes his arm, feeling silly and somewhat giddy all at once. They walk out of the cell, and out of the corridor, to find a guard knocked out and lying on the floor. Bruce’s first instinct is to check if they’re alive but he soon realises he hasn’t the faintest clue about the physiology of this species.

A pungent, stinging smell wafts from the corridor ahead. He wrinkles his nose, “Do you smell that?”

“Yes - ammonia. And something else... can’t put my finger on it. Not before I’ve had my coffee anyway.”

“Hmm, looks like someone’s discovered a weakness. It smells terrible but I’m feeling fine. You?”

“Wonderful”

They continue along the corridor, the alarm growing louder. Bruce tries his best to remember where they came from when they were escorted to their cell. They arrive at a junction and find two more aliens lying unmoving on the floor and, next to them, a woman and a small child cowering against a wall, sitting on the floor. Bruce lets go of Joker’s arm and kneels beside them.

“Are you alright?”

The terrified woman looks up at him and nods. “I think so...” she says weakly, “There was an explosion and people ran... they tried to overpower the aliens... they just got angry and they... we were the only ones to make it out of that section when...” her voice trails off and she begins to sob while the child stares wordlessly into distance. Bruce lays a hand on her shoulder while Joker yawns loudly and leans against a wall. The woman notices him and her eyes widen. “Is that -”

“Don’t worry about him right now,” Bruce interjects, “he’s the least of our worries. Now,” - he points towards the corridor they came from - “take that corridor until you find cells. Go to the one with the broken generator. Try and stay quiet. They won’t think to look for you there if they wake up. I’ll come back for you, do you understand?”

She nods again. Bruce helps her up and and looks at Joker.

“We have to find out what happened and if there’s a way to get back to Earth”

“Oh, goody! An adventure!” Joker enthuses. At that moment, the alarm ceases.

They keep walking along a long, curved corridor towards the faint sound of someone speaking when Joker stops on his tracks at a large window.

“Now, would you look at that...”

Bruce looks and takes in the great blue marble that is Earth. He's seen it from orbit countless times before but it does look especially beautiful now, given the circumstances. He heaves a sigh.

“Homesick already? We only just left!” Joker giggles and reaches to stroke his back “But it is awfully pretty.”  - he rests his head against his shoulder - ” Wanna stay and hold hands for a while?”

Bruce shakes his head and continues walking, briskly. Joker remains there looking at Earth for a moment, then runs to catch up with him and grabs hold of his arm.

They arrive at another open door. Whoever was behind it earlier doesn’t seem to be there anymore. It’s dead quiet. Bruce shakes himself free of Joker’s grasp and cautiously walks in. He finds his utility belt in a pile of random objects confiscated from the prisoners. He picks it up and puts it on, feeling surreal doing so without his batsuit on. Everything about what’s happening feels like a dream. He wishes it was.

Joker joins him and rummages around the pile too, making an excited squeak as he finds his hand buzzer and a custom .357 revolver.

“Flash?” says a voice, “J'onn and GL fixed the teleporter. Should we - ”

They turn to look towards a doorway at the other end of the room. Superman is standing there, his surprised expression mirrored in both Bruce’s and Joker’s face.

“Batman? Good to see you made it! Where’s Flash? He was just here...”

“I... I haven’t seen him. We just got here” Bruce says awkwardly. “I thought you were dead. How did you get out?”

Superman waves his hand, “It’s a long story. The event horizon is a strange place for my kind, I can tell you that much.” He looks to Joker, then back at Bruce “Wow, I don’t envy you for your cell mate.”

Joker’s eye is twitching, as are the corners of his mouth. Before anyone can say anything else he suddenly bursts into hysterical laughter.

“This isn’t funny!” Bruce snaps at him.

“HA HA HA HA!!! Not funny? Which part of this is _not_ hilarious?!” he howls with laughter.

Bruce grabs him by the front of his shirt and points at him. “You _knew_ this would happen, didn’t you?!” he accuses.

“No, I didn’t! I swear... I had no clue...” Joker manages through bursts of laughter, tears in his eyes.

Superman stares confusedly. “Uh, did I interrupt something...?"

“NO!” - “Yes!”

Bruce bares his teeth at Joker “You swear? _By their grave_!? Or did they even exist?"

“Yes! Of course they did!”

“Yet you think this is funny?”

“Of course! I’m not the one bound by stupid rules.”

Bruce lets go of him and shoves him away.  “Great timing there, Superman” he says angrily, while Joker has now suppressed his mirth down to the level of giggles.

“Um... You’re welcome...? It took a while to break into their database and find out how to disable them without harming the humans onboard. Then we had to inform people on the surface and get the stuff up here. Easy.” he says sharply. “Oh, and don’t worry, they won’t be getting up. Turns out the only way would kill them, so that’s fun.”

Bruce sighs, looking ashamed, guilty. “I’m sorry... I just... really wish you’d shown up a few hours later...”

“Later?”

“Forget it... Take Joker to wherever it’s safe. I need to keep a promise to someone.”

“Visit me soon, darling!” Joker yells after him as he turns his back and makes for the door. He leaves the room, listening to Joker whining about not being escorted personally by Batman, and walks to the corridor leading to the cell where the woman and child are hiding.

Tomorrow is going to be such a pain.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason for Joker erasing his past is not as much his criminal activities as it is his deteriorating mental health. He cannot process the things that have happened to him and wants to distance himself from them by sort of neurotically "packaging" his old, "weak" self neatly and sending him away, and creating a new persona of the nameless, cold mob killer and mastermind. The shock of failing again, meeting the Batman and falling into the chemical waste is what finally makes him snap for good and turn into the Joker we know and love.
> 
> As for the ending... I originally meant to kill them. That would have been the better choice artistically, I guess. But the comedic value of this ending and the juicy ideas I have for a sequel settled it :)


End file.
